


Bullets and Brulee

by gutterflower



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5845324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutterflower/pseuds/gutterflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spin-off of the fanfic "<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5420213">Skin Deep"</a> that follows Abby's brother, Neal, as he attempts to start life anew.  (It's highly recommended that you read Skin Deep before this fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bullets and Brulee

**Author's Note:**

> “To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other’s hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time.”  
> – Clara Ortega

Neal was starting to regret agreeing to assist the Vault-Tec rep to Sanctuary. The man was far too optimistic, a trait that grated on his nerves. Had this guy seriously spent the last 200 years in the same Commonwealth? Time truly did treat people differently.

It wasn’t that Neal disliked seeing the bright side of things. His world was being turned upside down again, but not necessarily in a bad way. Finding his sister alive after all these years seemed to ignite a spark within him that he once thought to be long dead. The feeling of wanting to protect someone, even at the cost of his own life, was now coming back to him. If he had been asked a few weeks ago whether or not he would care if he found Abby alive, he would have simply shrugged and claimed it didn’t matter. He was a different person now. What was some long lost relative to him after all this time? It was funny how quickly his attitude could change in an instant.

“This is gonna be great!” the Vault-Tec rep exclaimed. Neal had tried to drag a name out of the guy with no such luck. For lack of anything better to call him, he had dubbed the man “Vault-Tec”, or just “Vault” for short. He didn’t receive any complaints on the alias.

“We’ll probably get there and find the whole place got wiped out by deathclaws,” Neal stated pessimistically. Vault shook his head.

“Nope! I can feel it! This time, things are gonna look up! You and me, preparing for the future!”

Neal rolled his eyes. There was no bringing this guy down. Not even getting shot at by raiders seemed to dampen his spirits. No wonder his sister had ended up in a vault. She was too nice to shut the door on salesmen like this. There was a reason Mom had always had him answer the door. He had no qualms telling these types where to shove it.

A statue of a man holding a rifle came into view. It had been over two centuries since Neal had last seen it. He was surprised it was still standing after all this time. Across the bridge, he could see pre-war houses still intact – even if they did have their share of holes. A high rise platform supported by concrete ran the entire distance of the settlement. Fastened on top were turrets. This place wasn’t the most secure he had ever seen, but it definitely would cause a raider to think twice before going after it.

“Stop!” yelled a man at the end of the bridge. He had a laser musket pointed at them. A duster blocked the sun from his eyes, giving him a look that reminded Neal of the old cowboy movies he watched back in the good ol’ days. “State your business!” Neal really didn’t have patience for this bullshit.

 _"If we were smoothskins, he probably wouldn't make us explain ourselves,"_ he thought bitterly. Still, picking a fight with the people of Sanctuary wasn’t going to help him regain favor with his sister.

“We’re here on behalf of Abigail Fisher!” he called out, keeping his hands where the man could see them.

“…. You mean Abby? The Vault Dweller? She sent you?” the man called back.

“Yeah – she’s my sister,” Neal replied. He hoped the guard took him at his word. “She’s back in Goodneighbor, lookin’ for her kid. Told us to come help out here.”

The man starred at the ghouls for a brief moment before nodding.

“Come on in,” he decided. Neal had to admit that gaining access to the settlement had been easier than expected. His sister's name must have carried more weight than he gave her credit for. The two made their way across the bridge, approaching the guard. He held his hand out, smiling at them.

“The name’s Preston, Preston Garvey,” he greeted. Neal hesitated, not used to people in the Commonwealth being quite this friendly.

“…. Neal Murphy,” he mumbled, finally shaking Preston’s hand.

“Murphy? Wait – Miss Abby didn’t say anything about being a Murphy! Any relation to Mama Murphy?” he wondered. Neal shrugged.

“The hell if I know,” he retorted. This man was going to be just as annoying as Vault – Neal could feel it. No wonder Abby got along with him. He would have found her enthusiasm obnoxious as well if he didn't love her so damn much. She also at least had the excuse of having slept through the chaos of the past two hundred years.

“Well, whatever the case, welcome to Sanctuary! I’m glad to hear your sister’s safe – we were starting to worry!” Preston informed him.

“Didn’t worry enough,” Neal snorted.

“I’m… sorry?” Preston asked, confused.

“Did you send anyone to look for her? Or did you just stay holed up here the whole time?” he growled. Preston looked uncertain.

“I….well, we don’t exactly have the resources to-“ he began to answer before Vault rushed up and shook his hand.

“Vault Tec industries! Good to meet you, Mr. Garvey!” he exclaimed. Neal sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll just… go find that tin bucket of hers…. “ he muttered, walking away and leaving the two to converse.

The place had certainly changed over the years. He had only visited the neighborhood a few times before the war, but he still remembered how it used to look. The pretty flower beds and nice green lawns were now gone. At least the large tree that stood in the center of the cul-de-sac was still alive. It made a more fitting monument than the statue out front, really - something so beautiful surviving something so terrible.

A Mr. Handy unit zipped around nearby. Neal remembered how shiny and new it had appeared when he last saw it. Abby had been so excited over getting one. Animals and robots – she certainly preferred being around anything that wasn’t human. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t so put off by ghouls? Well, whatever worked.

“Codsworth?” Neal asked. The robot hovered in place, eye stalks twisting and adjusting like shutters on a camera.

“My word…. my scanners must be malfunctioning! Can it really be you….?!”

“In the flesh. Well, what’s left of if,” Neal replied with a small smile.

“Oh, what a wonderful day!” Codsworth exclaimed. “Master Neal! Oh how happy Miss Abigail will be when she hears you’re safe!”

“Yeah, actually, she’s the one who sent me here,” Neal explained. Codsworth’s circuits seemed to whirl in jubilation.

“Oh what joyous news! Mum is doing well in her search for young Shaun?”

“Well enough,” he replied. Damn, was everybody high on Jet around here? They all seemed so fucking upbeat for a place still in shoddy condition. He made a mental note not to drink the local water.

"What the hell is _that_?!" came a shriek from nearby. Neal turned his head, looking over to find a woman with short, dark hair sneering at him. _Great._

"Sorry, you talkin' to me?" he asked, straightening up.

"Yeah, you! What the fuck is something like _you_ doing here?!" she asked.

"Helpin' your ass is what," Neal barked back. "I was sent here by Abby - you got a problem?"

"Yeah!" she retorted, crossing her arms. "We don't need her yappin' about this place to everyone in the Commonwealth! It's bad enough we're as crowded as we are!"

"... How many folks you got here?" he wondered.

"Nine, not counting the spare parts," she replied, gesturing to Codsworth. Neal certainly wasn't used to someone starring him down the way this woman was. While he would normally be impressed with anyone who could look him in the eye and not get intimidated, this woman was just plain fucking annoying.

"... Nine, and you're seriously upset?" Neal snorted. "Boy, sister, with all the salt pouring off of ya? I could season an entire deathclaw roast!"

"We don't need anyone else, especially not any fucking zombies!" she continued. _Oh hell no_. Neal unholstered the pistol he had at his side.

"A touch hard of hearin', did you say something?" he asked.

"Yeah, I said get your filthy decaying ass out of here!" she answered. _Oh HELL no_. Neal walked up to her, cocking the gun before pointing it at her head.

"Wanna say that one more time?" he growled.

"Hey, hey!" a voice called out. Neal glanced over to see a man carrying a heavy wooden board that appeared to have recently been sawed. He wore coveralls and a pair of goggles. He was smiling, as though nothing in the world was wrong. Neal had to admire his hair, among _other_ aspects...

"You see that?! You see that?!" the woman called out to him, "I got a fuckin' zombie here threatening me!" The man continued to smile, not seeming bothered by the woman's screams.

"Hey, you're Miss Abigail's brother, right?" he asked.

"... word travels fast," Neal noted, withdrawing his gun.

"Heh, well... we only got about ten people here? Not a whole lot to gossip about - we take what we can get," the man mused. "Name's Sturges, by the way,"

"Uh... Neal... assuming you didn't already know that," he greeted. This one had quite the positive outlook as well, but for some reason it didn't bother Neal quite as much. He would certainly take that sort of attitude over the negativity of the nearby harpy any day.

"Well met," Sturges replied. "Hey, could ya maybe give me a hand with this? I've been carrying boards around all day - starting to get stiff."

That wasn't the _only_ thing getting stiff. Neal nodded, walking over to help him.

"Where to?" he asked, shouldering the plank.

"Just over near the river - I'm trying to piece together a tavern over there. Nice view of the water! Perfect place to just kick back." he explained. Neal hummed.

"Yeah, Abby said something about that.... said I could run my own restaurant once I got here."

"Gotta get it built first," Sturges grinned. "Been having too many rad storms lately. It's really put a damper on building." Neal smirked.

"Wouldn't know, really," he quipped. Sturges laughed.

"Right, right... because of the whole ghoul thing, huh?" he shook his head. "Well, if you can hold a hammer, we could definitely use ya."

"Actually, I used to work in construction during the pre-war days," Neal admitted.

"No kidding? Well we couldn't have asked for your sister to send a better man for the job! C'mon!"

The woman simply stood there with a sour expression on her face, nostrils flaring. Neal really wanted to wipe that scowl off of her face, but he had better things to do. He followed Sturges, leaving the woman behind.

"You'll have to excuse Marcy - she's been a little on edge since her son died," Sturges explained as they walked along.

"Forgive me for not exactly being sympathetic," Neal snorted. "My nephew's gone missing and you don't see my sister going off like that."

"Well, everyone deals with grief in their own way," Sturges shrugged. The two continued on to the river. Once there, Neal dropped the board onto the growing pile of building supplies. Sturges hadn't been joking about how little had been done so far on the structure.

"Shit... guess I got my work cut out for me, huh?" Neal considered. Sturges grinned.

"Yeah, but it'll be worth it."

"Hey, Murphy!" a voice called out nearby. Neal sighed, looking over to see Preston walking towards him. _What now..._

"Yeah?" he asked. Preston smiled, not looking too bothered by the ghoul's attitude.

"I received word that there's a settlement to the south of here that might need our help - Abernathy farm? Think you could check it out - see if they'd join the Minutemen?"

Neal starred at Preston with a blank expression before asking, "You... do realize I'm not your fuckin' errand boy, right....?"

Preston seemed a little taken back by the ghoul's words, but didn't let it deter him. "Yeah, sorry about asking you to take off when you just got here, but we don't really have many people here who can make that sort of trip alone. I need to stay here to make sure everything stays safe. I figured if you're half as good as your sister with a gun..."

"I _taught_ my sister how to use a gun," Neal interrupted.

"Right... well, then you're perfect for the job!" Preston smiled. Neal sighed.

"You wouldn't rather have me work on building stuff? Ya know that I used to work in construction..."

"Which is great! But we have Sturges here - and a few other people who can help build. What we need is someone who can get to Abernathy safely and maybe set up a base there. Working in construction gives you an advantage we could really use at these smaller outcrops."

".... and they're gonna just let a ghoul walk up to them and say what? Hi, I'm with the Minutemen, would you like to subscribe to our newsletter?"

Preston didn't quite seem to get the joke. Neal wasn't too surprised - his humor could be rather out-dated sometimes. Fucking post-war types...

"Well, you could always bring Codsworth with you?" Preston suggested. "To be honest, he's kinda making it hard to build around here - always trying to clean up debris when we're still working. Maybe it'd do him some good to get some fresh air? Might help people from mistaking you for a feral..."

"... sure, yeah," Neal sighed. "Yeah, I can see it now. 'Oh, wait, don't shoot that ghoul - he's got a robot! That suddenly makes him okay!'"

"I.. get where you're coming from," Preston replied. "It would really help us out, but if you're not up for it..."

Neal looked over at Sturges, silently cursing. So much for trying to get lucky. In the distance, he could still see that angry woman looking in his direction. Glaring at him, no doubt. Well, at least this would get him away from her before he had a chance to fuck everything up by slitting her throat the next time she called him a zombie.

"Alright... but you got some supplies for me to stock up on? I'm a little short on bullets, ya know" he decided.

"Take what you need - we'll provide everything we can," Preston smiled. Neal scowled. This guy was like a male version of Abby - far too nice to be out in the middle of the Commonwealth. How the hell had he survived so long? He didn't dwell on it too much. He took one last look at Sturges, waving goodbye at him. 

"Hey, don't worry - I'll work on the place while you're gone," Sturges told him. "By the time you return, you'll have your very own tavern!"

Neal smiled at the man. He didn't hold any hopes that Sturges would keep his word, but at least the thought was pleasant to entertain. He turned, following Preston. Luck was never on his side - at least maybe this time he'd have a place to come home to when it was all said and done. Maybe.


End file.
